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Long Live the Queen
Requested by Anonymous: Can I request a fic where the reader (who is a bit younger than T’Challa) is now the Queen and is a little nervous to leave Wakanda for the first time? Sorry that’s not really much of a plot. Pairing: T’Challa x Black!Female Reader Warnings: Teeth rotting fluff, the sweetest newlyweds acting like children. Vague NSFW references, but no actual smut. Word Count: 1.3K Translations: Sithandwa sam - my darling. Umhle - beautiful. A/N: I am hardly fluent in Xhosa, so I used google translate to help me out. I apologize if anything is incorrect! gif credit.
“- Sithandwa sam? Are you ready to go?”
Blissfully unaware of your husband’s presence, you continued to sort through the ever expanding collection of jewelry you had acquired over your lifetime. You and T’Challa would be leaving for a week in France today, spending half the morning fretting of your wardrobe and what to bring. For fear of accidental injury or some kind of public incident, you had already ruled out the pieces given to you by an exuberant Shuri. You were still getting used to the beautiful wedding band she had designed for you and T’Challa, littered with your favorite stones while also connected to your Kimoyo Beads ‘just in case’. At least the family engagement ring had remained untouched, passed from the Queen Mother Ramonda to you with great pride. The ring had meant so much to your mother in law, especially after the death of her husband. Yet according to the wedding toasts you heard over a week ago, she had forbidden to allow her son to propose marriage with any other ring.
“You should take these,” T’Challa murmured in your ear. If it wasn’t for the warm hand on the small of your back, you would have leapt right out of your new dress. He was holding one of your favourite earrings aloft, a present he’d given you after a year of being together. “You see? They’re perfect to complement those beautiful eyes of yours,” You tried and failed to hide the smile he brought upon you, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes before nodding decisively. “Wonderful choice, handsome. And a completely unbiased one, I trust?”
“Of course!” He laughed, trading the earring in his hand in exchange for a gentle kiss from his new bride. Unable to stop smiling since the day you were married, you ended up stifling your laughter against T’Challa’s mouth. As if he had been offended, he broke away from the kiss to fix you with a small pout that ended up making you laugh even harder. “What is it? What’s so funny?” He prodded, chasing you around in circles while you tried to escape the vicious circle of giggles.
Neither of you had realized how loud your squeals and his laughter had been until someone cleared their throat from the doorway of your shared bedroom. Your beloved General Okoye had been waiting outside in the hall, skittering to a stop once you saw the unimpressed expression on her face.
“For Bast’s sake!” she groaned, rolling her eyes as her head hit the solid wood of your door with a dull thunk. “Here I thought that the King and Queen were packing for their trip, instead I come to find you chasing your tails!”
“I am sorry if we startled you, Okoye. I was just -” before T’Challa could speak further, the General had straightened to her impeccable posture once again. “Playing children’s games? I haven’t seen you do that since you were four years old.”
“I would have been only one at that time!” You protested with a huff. “Aye – I didn’t mean you!” Okoye made a vague gesture towards your husband at that. “Either way, we were meant to leave in less than an hour. Will you be ready to leave by then, Your Highnesses?” Like children who had been caught playing after bed time, you and T’Challa moved as one to finish packing and zipping up your suitcases. With a firm nod, Okoye turned on her heel and headed for the door.
You were beyond grateful that the head of your husband’s personal security was such a dear friend to both of you. Okoye had been more like a big sister to you than an intimidating warrior, treating you no differently when you were with friends or family now that you were her Queen. A grand total of thirty seconds passed after she left before the Black Panther finally spoke up. “You know – she really does spoil all of our fun.”
“I heard that!”
As King and newly crowned Queen of Wakanda, you had spent the first week of your honeymoon in the best country in the world. Your country – it was your home. One you had never set foot outside of in your entire life. You were the one who had told your then-fiancé that you had always wanted to travel the world one day – Paris was the perfect destination for a honeymoon, no?
You were starting to think that perhaps it was a perfect destination for someone else, someone who was not so anxious that she was currently pacing a hole in the floor of the aircraft. T’Challa had watched you for the past ten minutes, waiting for the right opportunity to step in if need be. When you finally glanced up at your husband from what must have been your two hundredth lap, he opened his arms without missing a beat. “Come, umhle. Tell me what is troubling you.”
Thankfully the Dora Milaje gave you privacy on such a long flight, immediately climbing into his lap without the necessary decorum. Instinctively T’Challa rests his chin atop your head, holding you close and waiting patiently for you to speak when you were ready.
“I… I’m scared T’Challa,” you admitted with a gulp. “I’ve never left Wakanda before. What if everyone stares at us? What if I make a fool of myself and bring shame to our country? How does one even act like a Queen in France? What if -” Any further protests from you were silenced when his hand tilted your chin upwards, free hand still supporting your back while he kissed you deeply. Sensually. His tongue smoothed over your bottom lip, making you moan and re-adjust in his lap.
“Y/N, I love you with all of my heart. But this trip is for celebrating our marriage, not representing our country. There are no press conferences to appear at, no council meetings to attend. Everything will be all right – I promise. Have I ever let you down before?” As you shook your head no, the realization dawned on you that the majority of the tension you were feeling had disappeared. “Well… other than kissing me like that and not finishing what you started?” A deliberate movement of your hips had T’Challa moaning low in his throat. “My apologies, Mrs. Udaku. Allow me to make it up to you?”
If married life meant working through problems together with a ‘special’ treatment afterword? You could get used to this.
When the aircraft touched down an hour later, you and T’Challa had to scramble to get yourselves together. Your escorts both had a knowing look on their faces when the door opened, eager to get out of the plane and stretch your legs. Even from your distance, the bright lights of the Eiffel Tour were a sight to behold. Ayo and Okoye stepped off the aircraft first, the two of you following close behind. You had almost reached the end of the ramp when your body froze, hesitating to step down onto the dewy grass.
T’Challa felt the slight tug of you holding back, turning to face you with an encouraging smile on his face. “Remember what I said, umhle. Everything will be all right.” Instead of letting you step off of the ramp by yourself, he picked you up bridal style and swept you in a circle.
Satisfied that you were no longer nervous, the King of Wakanda set you down gently onto foreign soil for the first time. It didn’t feel any different than African soil, wiggling your toes just to make sure. You turned to face your husband with an elated grin, eyes shining brighter than the lights of the city.
“Bude bukumkanikazi, my love. Long live the queen.”
Thank you very much to my beta @panthergoddessbast for reading this over for me. Would you like to be tagged in my T’Challa content? Or content for a specific Black Panther character? Send me an ask! (An ask please, that way I can post it on my blog for reference.)
TAG REQUESTS: @jubileeave-me-alone